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"Friendly Fire" (Nature)
Landing in the middle of an open field, Gwen was eager to get off the helicopter. Like an overexcited child at a theme park, Gwen hurried Sierra and Tango to land the helicopter quicker. Once they finally had done so and it was safe to leave, Gwen jumped right out. “Slow down!” Tina tried to keep up with her, “It’s been an entire year Gwen, a couple of minutes won’t make any difference.” But still she headed right back to the seaside town. “Check every single shop. Every single beach hut. Every square metre of sand on the beach. I don’t care, check everything. Any signs of what happened to my daughter at all,” Gwen took control. Although Sierra and Tango did not like this, it was in their best interests to co-operate in order to find Agent Whisky too. There was a small pier extending from the higher-part of the beach. Gwen had run all the way to the end of it. It seemed as though she was in luck, appearing to notice something at the end of the boardwalk. “Hey! Over here!” She gestured for the others to join her at the end of the pier. “What do you make of this message?” She called out, prompting them to rush even quicker. Stepping away from whatever she was looking at, the two agents looked around the end of the pier as hard as they could, but whatever Gwen had saw, they could not, “Where?” Gwen pulled out her pistol on them, “Don’t turn around, either of you.” They faced towards the sea, and put their hands up, “Seriously Gwen? After a whole year of spending time together, have we not bonded?” She kept a firm grip on the gun, “First you abduct me, my daughter and my friends, then you lose half of them. You really think my grudge faded away?” The two sisters faced each other. “''Face forwards'',” She had become violent and threatening now. “We let you live Gwen. We could’ve killed you, and we could’ve killed all your friends. But we didn’t. We fed you, gave you a place to sleep. Now you’re going to kill us?” She still held the gun firmly, “No, I’m not. For all the reasons you just said, I’m not going to do it unless I absolutely have to. That’s why you two are going to jump off this pier and drown yourselves. My daughter is lost and I may never see her again, considering I’m letting you two sisters die together, I think I’m fairly reasonable.” Tango and Sierra took the risk, putting their hands down and turning around. “Did you not just hear me?” They stepped towards her, “Kill us then. But just note that without us, you’ll never make it back to France – back to the people who you know are still alive for sure.” Taking this into consideration, she hesitated momentarily. Then settled to lower the gun, sparing them. “So, is that what this is all about? You don’t expect to find any trace of your daughter, do you? You just wanted to kill us,” Tina had watched the whole event from behind. “Honestly… Yes. I wanted all three of you to die. You two,” She pointed at Tango and Sierra, “For losing my daughter. And you,” She pointed at Tina, “It didn’t take you that long to switch sides at all.” She sighed, “It wasn’t like that, Gwen. They were going to kill me, and then the rest of your group. If you wish to play it like that though… Go ahead, kill me for saving your life.” She shook her head, “I want my daughter back. Nought is going to stop me.” She holstered her pistol, walking back down the pier as though nothing had happened. Elliot had been exploring the mansion for most of the day. It was rather large and impressive. “Well I must say Seymour,” Elliot remarked, “You chose quite the place to live in.” He laughed, “Given the situation, I’m surprised that no one else took it first!” Celeste and Abel came rushing into the main room. “Must you stampede on such a rare moment?” Seymour groaned. It seemed to Elliot that Abel apologised in French, and then delivered him some urgent news. “What? Really? Another one?” Seymour’s reaction increased Elliot’s suspicions. “What is it? What’s happening?” He insisted. “Another new arrival. Also in the tunnels, just like you. A woman.” Elliot followed on after Celeste and Abel. “Oh, never mind my mind-blowing mansion then,” He quirkily remarked before mildly-swearing in French. Sebastian and Langley had brought in the ‘woman’ from the tunnels. Speeding down the stairs into the cellar, Elliot’s face lit up, “Olivia!” She smiled back at him, as they hugged yet again. “Are you alright?” She nodded, but was eager to say something else clearly, “Listen, Gwen went back to England. She’s trying to find any trace of Annabelle. I asked Zach to help me get to you. Elliot, it’s just us out here now, it won’t take Foxtrot long to realise. We need to help Reed and Pierre!” He nodded, “Couldn’t agree less. But this lot disagree. They’re too afraid of another threat.” Olivia was already aware of this, “Yes I know: the sinners''. Zach told me about them. I need to find the one called ‘Seymour’.”'' Speaking of which, the bulky man himself appeared at the top of the stairs. “I say…” He gazed upon Olivia in amazement, “I knew the apocalypse hosted treasure but… A woman like you? I must be blessed indeed!” He pulled up her hand and kissed it, “My life at your command, majesty.” Feeling flattered, she blushed. Elliot gave him a vicious look, stepping in between the two, “Thank your men for me Seymour. After all, they have just saved my girlfriend.” Upon finding this information out, he sighed in disappointment, “And there I was thinking I finally had a chance. Oh well, good on you my English friend!” He went through with Elliot’s request, thanking Sebastian and Langley in French. “Now then Seymour, tell me about the sinners…” Reed was still going mad in his bunker. More hallucinations showed up, playing tricks on him. He reached for his pill container, but this time, it was empty. He threw the container against the curvy wall, followed by the glass of water. Then, he could hear his door being manually unlocked from the outside. He leapt over to the smashed glass, picking up the sharpest shard. As it opened, one of the soldiers walked in, closing the door behind him again. Standing up, Reed hid the shard up his sleeve. In Pierre’s bunker, the situation was the same. A black clad armoured soldier had entered his room as well, approaching him slowly. Knowing something wasn’t right, he pulled his knife out. The soldier tried to calm him in French. As he went to insert the knife into the soldier’s chest, he merely took it back out again; he had forgotten about the armour. The soldier spoke into his radio, “Subject One-Eight-Eight, termination process beginning,” His accent was a perfect blend of French & English, Pierre could not tell which one he was. With no time to work out something so minute, he noticed there was no protection over the soldier’s throat. Swinging the knife up to there, he threatened the soldier, forcing him to drop all his weapons and raise his hands. “Subject One-Three-Five-Dash-Two, termination process beginning,” The soldier pulled out a suppressed pistol. Swinging his arm out with the glass shard, Reed slit the soldier’s throat, causing him to gasp fatally and clench it. He took the soldier’s pistol and baton. Watching the soldier bleed out to death, a part of him felt sorrow, while another part knew it was his own fault. Pierre held his soldier in a headlock position, knife against his throat too. Walking through the airfield openly, several soldiers & agents raised their firearms at him, while several casual survivors living in the base looked terrified. “I want Foxtrot! Bring him to me, now! Or this man dies!” He raised the soldier’s head up further. “Pierre? What on earth are you doing my dear boy?” Foxtrot walked towards him from behind, completely unarmed. “Let that poor man go! Please…” He raised his hands to reason. “''Poor'' man? This man joined your pathetic cause. This man willingly chose to help you kidnap and murder people!” Pierre pressed the knife more tightly against the soldier’s throat. Foxtrot got closer to him, “I already told you my dear chap. We do not murder anybody! We test them! If they are not fit for survival, then that is their own fault. Not ours. If we are to survive in this world, then the best survivors must be found!” He threw the soldier to the ground, pulling out the pistol, aiming it at Foxtrot, “So… Have you been tested then?” He stuttered for an answer, prompting Pierre to look around, “Has anyone ''here ever tested on or seen this man actually be tested?” No one raised their hand or spoke out. “Well, in that case…” He ran towards Foxtrot, holding him firmly with the suppressed pistol against his head. “What test subject number are you?” Pierre eccentrically asked him. The helicopter journey back into France was deadly quiet. “You know you’ve wasted more than just our time; you’ve wasted our fuel too. Something which we are very much running out of,” Sierra’s comment had been disregarded by Gwen, except for the “fuel” part, thinking it may come in useful at a later point. “Heading over France in 3… 2…” Tango counted down, but stopped as their helicopter was bombarded with bullets. “What’s going on?” Tina was unnerved. “Taking heavy fire. Someone clearly doesn’t like us!” As Tango and Sierra tried to keep the chopper under control, Gwen went into a brace position. “Significant damage to the engine! Everyone take cover! We’re going down!” As Tina and Sierra went for cover, Tango tried to at least crash in a place where they may actually survive the fallout. Still at the edge of the French coast, Erica, Annabelle and Andy had shot the helicopter down with their rifles. “You see? I told you it would work,” It was Annabelle’s plan, therefore the other two felt guilty for firing on the vehicle. Seeing the look of remorse on their faces, Annabelle tried to reassure them, “Look, whoever’s piloting it clearly knows what they’re doing. They’re still trying to control the wretched thing; I mean look at it! Therefore, the chances of ''someone on board surviving are likely very high… It’s getting away, come on we need to follow it and find the crash site!” -The title refers to how Annabelle - along with Andy and Erica - shoots down the helicopter with her mother on board; albeit this is unknown to her.